Fallout 3
by Mr. Kohrman
Summary: The bridge between my characters in Fallout 3 and Fallout: New Vegas.
1. Chapter 1

_This is my first post on this site. This story is set in the Fallout 3/ Fallout: New Vegas settings and timeline. I don't own the rights to these games, but do own the games. Enjoy, and please leave criticism. _

_Saint. _

Chapter One

The Wastes.

"... I don't want to set the world on fire..."

Boom! The sound rang out between the destroyed buildings, echoing through broken windows and debris until it finally faded into the distance. The bullet that formed it into being hit it's target, obliterating it into a million shattered pieces. The music stopped, the solar powered portable radio crushed by my round. For a Pre-War gun, my old Smith and Wesson 500 worked wonderfully. Too bad finding the ammo was a huge bitch. Our guide, Rachel, looked at me in disgust.

"Just because they call you Hero of the Wastes doesn't mean you get to be an asshole. That cost three hundred caps."

I snorted, sitting down amongst the rubble.

" What makes you think I care? I've got a PipBoy. This thing is damn indestructible. And that music was pissing me off. All Three Dog does is play the same damn stuff over and over."

"You know," Rachel said, effectively ignoring my words, "life out here isn't all about you. This focuses my boys morale, and now you've screwed it up. Like everything else we've tried to do."

I leaned back against the concrete boulders, thinking back on my last couple of weeks with these Wasters. Rachel, the five foot nine, short haired blond, and I, the six foot four, two hundred twenty pound black haired man couldn't have made a worse pair. I remember looting the Hell out of some dead caravans, when Rachel and her "boys" stumbled across me. I can't think of a solid reason I chose to travel with them. It was probably because Rachel was a babe. Whatever the cause, I had traveled with this idiotic group for a while, and I could feel my soul getting restless. These do-gooders traveled all around, helping innocent little Wasters get their feet back on the ground. They were ruining all my plans. The way I see it, might makes right, and if I'm strong enough to take it, I will. This little entourage, on the other hand, seemed delighted at helping out the poor.

I sneered a little. Rachel shot her eyes up.

"What's with the ugly look, brute?"

My sneer, disappeared, replaced by a glare.

"I am not some animal, kid." I started, raising myself off the rock I had been sitting upon. "And you'll do damn well to remember it."

"Or what?" she shot back. "You gonna shoot me?"

I opened my mouth to assure her that I would, but I stopped when movement caught my eye from the right. I dropped to one knee, pulling my revolver with the other. A huge Sentry Bot rolled into view. A spray painted peace sign was splashed in neon green on it's chest, and it rolled quietly into our little clearing in between the fallen skyscrapers of downtown D.C.

"Not so tough with my boys around, are you? Little bitch..." Rachel spat at me, stepping towards the Sentry Bot. The Wastes were not a safe place for a smokin' hot chick, and therefore Rachel made protection in the form of her "boys". These "boys" consisted of the huge Sentry Bot, named Arnold, and a Mr. Gutsy, nicknamed Mathilda. I hated those stupid robots. They always rolled in together, just as I was about to show Rachel her place.

She probably rigged them to come back after a certain time, no doubt, I thought to myself.

"One day..." I muttered under my breath, standing up out of my kneel.

"Let's go," Rachel started, heading towards a broken down alley in between two pieces of rubble. "This place isn't as safe as home."

I rolled my eyes. It seemed a safe a place as any, and I had been in some deep shit. Death seemed to threaten me all around, almost taking me into it's fold back at Project Purity. Since then, it trailed me like some kind of dog, waiting for the day. I always seemed to avoid it, though. Even after Operation Broken Steel, and helping the Outcasts with their simulation of the Alaskan War.

Yeah, I thought to myself. I'm the man.

"Are you coming or not? Sweet God, we don't have all day." Rachel shouted back, now a considerable distance away.

"One day, God won't save you." I muttered again under my breath, trudging towards the alley where Rachel stood. I took a few strides, hearing the start of a whisper. I stopped, whipping my head around, searching for the sound. It sounded like...

"Muties!" I shouted, motioning Rachel to run for cover.

Just in time, as several Super Mutant Brutes burst from the alley on my left, filing into a crude formation. Two of them carried huge Miniguns, the warming of the barrels causing the whisper I had heard. Another carried a simple stick, but attached to the belt of his waist were several grenades. I dove behind cover, narrowly avoiding the hail of bullets that buried themselves in the rubble above my head. I scanned for Rachel, spotting her cowering behind the wall of a sky scraper to my right. She had her two nine millimeter pistols in each head, peeking out for any opportunity to strike.

There wasn't any, however. The Muties had been blazing rounds ever since they'd found us.

Suppressive fire, no doubt. I thought to myself. But for what...?

I had to act. Stupid, idiot Muties getting the better of the Hero of the Wastes? No way in Hell. I peeked from cover, attracting the fire of the two machine gunners. I ducked back behind the debris, formulating my plan. First, I take out the one on the right. With any luck, Rachel would be smarter than she looked, and take the opportunity to kill or maim the Mutie on the left. Hopefully. I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves.

Funny, I thought. Even after all this time, I still feel a little nervous...

I snapped out of it. No thinking now. I checked my ammo, seeing a full clip. I smirked, booting up my PipBoy's V.A.T.S. Time to go nighty night, . I stood up, using the V.A.T.S. to finalize my aiming. I pulled the trigger, feeling the recoil as the bullet sprang from the barrel. It found it's target, burying itself in the head of the right Mutant before exiting, causing the Mutant's head to blow clean off it's shoulders. I let out a sharp laugh, looking towards Rachel. As I had hoped, she took advantage of the moment to fire angrily into the left Mutie, dropping it to it's knees.

"Stop!" I cried, electing a surprised look from Rachel.

I glanced towards the Super Mutant. It's knees and legs had horrific bullet wounds, and it looked in no spirit to raise itself from the ground. I quickly strode over to Rachel, who had position herself in front of the Mutie. She had a clear shot with two barrels, and I had no doubt that if the Mutant tried to rise, that action would be it's last. I reached Rachel.

"Where were your badass boys, kid? Did they get a little scared?"

She glared.

"No. I didn't want them getting hit."

I sneered.

"I'll take care of this. Go get your boys... if they haven't left you. I know I would if I were them."

I laughed to myself as Rachel strode angrily away. I could never get enough of that. I focused my attention on the dropped Mutie. It looked up at me, arms hanging at it's sides. A slow wheezing came from it's mouth, followed by deep, harsh laughing.

"What're you laughing at, you stupid bitch?" I said, angrily.

This only made Mutie laugh harder.

"Argh!" I screamed, pushing the barrel of my magnum against the Brute's skull, quickly pulling the trigger.

It's head, like the other's, blew clean off it's shoulders, leaving nothing but a squirting mass of flesh and blood.

"Not so funny anymore, huh?" I said, spitting on the beast's dead body. "Wait..."

Where was the stick carrying one...? I thought to myself, feeling a sudden shadow cast itself over me.

"Shit."

A board cracked itself over my head, immediately dropping me to the ground. My ears rang, and my vision blurred, sharpened, then blurred again. I saw Rachel, hiding behind some rubble. Arnold and Mathilda were no where to be found.

"Run..." I said weakly, the shadow forming into a huge, green mass. "Run!"

I hardly saw Rachel turn, before my vision blackened to the sound of harsh, rumbling laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

As hopefully you'll recognize, I'm not sticking straight to the canon. I will introduce plot twists and things that I think should be explored more in the Fallout universe, along with things that I think would just be cool to include, as well. Don't worry though, I'll try not go too crazy. Also, as I'm sure you've noticed, I will take a pretty long time with updates. I want you to enjoy them. Please leave questions, comments, or whatnot.

Saint.

Chapter Two.

Out Of The Fire...

I woke up, a fierce ringing sounding in my head. I tried to move my arms, but felt them bound by thick chains. A Mutant groveled in front of me, leaning over some kind of desk.

"Hey..."

I tried to speak, but as I did, the pain shot through my head like lightning. I gasped, my vision blackening around the edges. I struggled to keep my consciousness, the darkness threatening to overtake me. I breathed deeply, trying to clear my head. After a few long, agonizing moments, the black disappeared from the corner of my vision, and I focused back on the Mutie in front of me. My noise and struggle had elicited it's attention, and it now focused on me.

"The human, is now... awake?" It grumbled, showing trouble in forming words.

"Yeah, I'm up, bitch." I spat in it's direction.

"Ha! Haha! You will be good Mutant, yes..." It turned back around, it's crude armor scraping against itself.

"Wait!" I said."What the Hell do you mean, "Good Mutant"?"

"You have been... chosen. To become... like us."

I stared at him. The Mutie stared back.

"What the Hell did you just say."

"No more talk. You will see."

The Mutant turned around, focusing back on it's desk, and whatever lay there.

"You bitch! Tell me, you rotting piece of shit!" I screamed, rattling the chains as I fought to free myself.

"Argh! Quiet! Trying to read!"

The Mutie crossed the small room in one gigantic step, throwing a fist into the side of my head. The last feeling I had was sheer weightlessness as I faded once more into unconsciousness.

The dragging feeling on my feet woke me up first. I was being carried, but by what, I couldn't tell. The disorientation from that huge bitch's fist had left me groggy, and unable to fully move. I just let myself be dragged, to wherever in this Hellhole my destination was. After innumerable moments, my vision began to straighten itself, and my feelings returned to normal. My head hurt like a bitch, but besides that, I felt alright. I swung my head to the side, and saw a huge mass of green flesh. I looked to the other side, and saw the same thing. They were taking me God knows where, and I was powerless against these monsters.

"I'm so going to kill you bitches." I said.

The dragging didn't stop, nor did any sort of retaliation occur.

"You hear me? I'm going to blow you away. Not even your mates are gonna know who you are after I'm done."

Still nothing. I gave up trying to goad them into some action. I doubt it would have any effect, and even if it did, it would probably kill me, given my current condition. So I gave up, letting myself be dragged. It didn't take long to get where we were going after that. A door way appeared, the rough shape filtered out of the dark hallway by some kind of sickly green light. A smell creeped into my nostrils, making me dry heave in disgust. It only worsened as we approached the door way. Entering the room, it grew almost unbearable. I focused on not throwing up, hardly aware of the Mutant ahead of me. When I noticed it, I looked up, giving my most intimidating look. The Mutie didn't even blink.

"Do you know why you are here, human?" It said, it's voice gravelly and low.

"Because you Mutants are dicks, and cracked me over the head with a freakin' tree before dragging me to this God forsaken place."

"No," it said slowly. "You are here for a definite purpose."

"Wait, wait. How the Hell can you even talk? You're a bunch of dumb, brutish, idiot, mutated animals."

What looked like annoyance flashed across the speaking Mutant's face.

"To your kind, that is true. But we know better. The "Super Mutants", as you call us, are nothing but a select race, a perfect race, given the attributes to survive in this harsh land."

"You've got to be shittin' me. You think you're some kind of superior race? Your average Brute can't even think for it's own damn self."

Irritation crossed the monster's face.

"You will understand when you experience it for yourself. Ready him."

I was picked up, my legs dangling off the floor.

"You better let go of me, you stupid green bastards. I'll kill you."

Not even a sound. They dragged me over to a small, makeshift cage, then thrust me inside, slamming the door behind me. I gripped the roughly hewn bars, barely having the strength to haul myself to a standing position. I glanced below me. The noxious smell was emanating from some sort of green sludge.

"If you dunk me in that shit..." I warned.

"Silence! You are being given a gift. Accept it."

With those words, the talking Mutant exited through the doorway, bowing his big, green head downwards in order to clear it.

"Let me out! Let me out of this cage, you dumb bitches!" I screamed, trying to shake the cage. My strength just wasn't there. My body screamed in protest, the pain taking me clean off my feet. I lay, scrunched in this rough cage. A slight jerk signaled to me that they were lowering me towards the sludge.

This is it, I thought. Here lies the Lone Wanderer, hero of the Wastes.

A sharp, inhuman sounding laugh burst out of me, just before the cage crashed into the sick liquid. It slid over my legs, burning my skin. My laughter turned to screams of pain, the cage lowering yet deeper into the sludge. The pain was indescribable. I screamed, the liquid flowing up my face, into my mouth. I was fully submerged in this Hell, unable to escape. But my screams never stopped, not even under the surface. The seconds ticked by, slowly, the pain ever increasing. What seemed like hours passed, before the cage jolted up, lifting me slowly out of the torture I had endured.

Finally, the cage reached the top. The two Super Mutant Brutes that had dragged me here took me out, holding my arms firmly. There would be no hope of escape, especially not now. Head hanging, I waited for something, anything to happen next. I didn't know if that was some kind of torture that was supposed to get me to talk, or if the Mutants simply did that to their victims for fun. My thoughts were shattered when a strong hand gripped my hair, pulling my head up.

"Can you speak, human?"

"What the Hell is it to you?" I spat out, the words taking all my strength to even form.

"Good, good. You are a prime specimen indeed."

I held my head up, looking for who was asking me these questions. I sneered, my sight greeted by the same high and mighty talking Mutant that commanded me to be thrown in that Hell.

"I'm going to beat your ass." I said, hardly able to hear my own voice.

The big, lipless mouth turned to a Mutant version of a smirk. The talking Mutant turned, picking up a Stimpak from the table behind him. I tried to focus on it. It would make no sense to stab that in to me now. But this Stimpak wasn't for healing. It looked modified, having tubes and wires where regular Paks didn't. The vial also contained a deep green liquid, instead of the warm healing solution that I was well accustomed to.

"Phase two!" the speaking Mutant said, a rumbling laugh sounding out.

He positioned the needle against my arm, before pressing it swiftly and firmly into my bicep. He injected about one fourth, before pulling the needle out. He repeated this on my opposite arm, and on each of my thighs. Besides the sting of the needle itself, the shots didn't hurt near as bad as the bath.

"Ha! What a pussy shot." I said, trying to show my strength.

"You won't be saying that in a few moments, human. And this is not over yet."

The talking Mutant, whom in my mind I had nicknamed Bitch, replaced the empty needle with another full one. He turned back to me, injecting half of the green solution into my left calf, and the other half into my right.

"You are finished for today, human. We will continue until you are... complete."

Bitch motioned for the Brutes to take me away. By now, whatever Bitch had injected me with started to burn unceasingly, the pain much like what I had just endured in the "bath". My screaming started again, the pain returning in waves. I was dragged down the dark hallway, away from the green room I had just left. I was dragged deeper into the Earth, taking too many twists for me to count. As far as I could tell, I was in some kind of Vault. Maybe even Vault 87, the original home of these bastards. The pain was excruciating, and I could hardly focus. Even through the pain, a memory came back of Vault 87. I remember going there once, looking for some stupid equipment for my dad...

I was snapped out of my brief reprieve, my body mercilessly thrown into a modified holding cell. I didn't have the strength to stand, and the door was already shut behind me, presumably locked. And so I lay, the pain eventually subsiding enough for me to slip into a troubled unconscious...

What seemed like weeks passed. The days were all the same. Woke up by Brutes dragging me to the "bath". Suffering from what was called the "green stuff" by the guards outside my door. After the "bath", I had my shots, apparently a more concentrated form of whatever the Hell the Mutants submerged me in. Then, after that was done, I was thrown back in the cell I lived in. Food was sometimes provided. I got my water from the leaking pipes on the ceiling. Eventually though, I felt physical and mental changes occurring. The pain started to lessen from the bath, though the shots remained as intense as the first day. I felt taller, and my muscles steadily grew. My senses increased, imperceptibly at first, but steadily more as the sessions increased. Strength began to return to me, and when I wasn't being subjected to the "green stuff", I felt better than I ever had.

It wasn't all peaches and gravy, though. Whatever that shit was, it was slowing down my thoughts. Sometimes it took a few moments to process my thoughts. My aggression grew by the day. Simple things, such as the constant drip, that would never have bothered me before now made me enraged. I would smash into whatever was in the room, much to the enjoyment of my guards. That would only anger me more, and turn my rage to them. I would pound on the glass, cracking it several times, but never breaking it. The Brutes also had a harder time dragging me to the baths and shots, me being almost as tall as them, and almost as powerful. They eventually resorted to using some kind of nerve gas to knock me out, then would drag me.

This day was no different. I woke up to the Brutes, only to be knocked out by the gas. I woke up, the soft glow of the bath waking me. I shrugged, almost knocking the hands of the Brutes off me. The nerve gas was still in my system, however, and my strength was taken from the lack of sustenance. The Brutes threw me into the room, my body bouncing off the cold, steel grated floor.

"Ah! Yes!" Bitch spoke, an excited tone creeping into his voice. "Only a few more weeks, and you shall be complete..."

"Shut up, Bitch." I spoke, my voice now lower as well. "You'll... never turn me into some stupid Mutant."

"Oh, but I've already started. Throw him in the bath."

I was picked up, thrown into the cage, and lowered. The session passed like normal, the bath now bearable, the shots less so. I was dragged back to my cell, thrown in. I crawled to the wall, my strength completely gone once more. I rest my head against the cold concrete. Just like the first time, the pain lessened enough for me to seize my sweet release.

I woke up. The silence pervaded my cell. At first, I didn't notice. Waking up was different for me now. It took a few seconds for me to gather myself after every sleep. I stretched, standing up. My hair, or what was left of it, brushed the ceiling. A side effect of Mutantification was hair loss. I still had enough to cover my head, though I no longer could pull off the Waster hairdo I had normal worn. I strode to the window, looking out. The first odd thing I saw was the lack of guards. The silence hit me second.

What in the Hell...? I thought to myself.

I went to the door, trying it to see if it was locked. It was.

:"Shit." I said aloud.

I was hoping for a lucky break. A scream broke out. Distant, but still... it was there. I cocked my ear, hoping for some other sound. Maybe this would be my lucky break after all. Screams sounded, along with something else. Was that...?

"No." I said.

It couldn't be. Lasers? Here? I pressed my face against the glass, the sounds of what seemed like a battle growing closer. Eventually, I could see bright green and red flashes. Plasma, and definitely Laser Rifles.

The Brotherhood! I thought, excitement pulsing through me.

While I wasn't buddy buddy with the Brotherhood of Steel, I was still on relatively good terms with them. They'd recognize me, hopefully, and get me out of this shithole. I waited in anticipation. The sounds grew closer and closer, until they seemed just outside the door. A plasma grenade went off, surprising me. I took a reflexive step back, now unable to see out of the window from the debris. Shouts and orders could be heard directly behind the door. I took a step back, wary of more explosions.

And with good reason, too. The door was blown clean off, crushing itself against the far wall. Dust billowed into the air as shaded figures entered.

"Don't shoot, don't shoot! I'm not a damn Mutie!" I shouted, hands held up.

"Stay where you are!" A voice yelled through the dust. "Your hands where I can see 'em!"

I stood, in reckless anticipation, my hands held up on the ceiling.

Finally! I thought. I'm saved!

The dust slowly settled, giving me a clear view of who was actually in the room with me.

"Shit." I rumbled.

"Well, well, look who we have here...": the Enclave officer said,


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

And into Hell.

"Haha..." I chuckled, nervously. "What's up, guys?"

"Shut up, you wandering piece of shit." the officer said, soldiers filing in behind him.

"Hey, you guys aren't still pissed about Adams, right...?"

The officer leveled a plasma pistol at me.

"Keep talking, and you'll find out, shit."

"Hey!" my anger starting to rise. " My name is not..."

A Hellfire Enclave soldier stepped forward, slamming his Heavy Flamer straight into my gut. Even with my new physique, the cold steel hurt like Hell, and knocked the breath straight out of me. I staggered back against the wall, reaching one hand out to steady myself.

"Done talking?" The officer asked me.

"I'm all ears, man..." I wheezed out.

"Good," the officer started. "I'm going to give you two options, Wanderer. You come with us willingly, and we can get what we want, or you can resist, and we kill you, and still get what we want."

"You know what?" I asked, my breath coming back to me as I straightened myself. "I have another option."

Before the officer could even open his mouth to speak, I lunged at the Hellfire soldier, pulling the Heavy Incinerator out of his hand before back-handing him into the side wall. I leveled the Incinerator (which felt way less heavy in my new condition) and sent out a fireball into the Enclave soldier behind the officer, frying him in his heavy metal armor. Three soldiers remained, and with their wits now gathered, they charged me. The combined mass of all three soldiers plowed into me and staggered me, almost causing me to fall to the ground. Luckily, the solid concrete wall broke my fall. It wasn't the softest landing I'd ever had, but certainly one of the most helpful. I pushed myself off, kicking one soldier off. He hit the ground, bounced, and then lay still. I dropped the Incinerator, grabbing both of the remaining soldiers by the neck. I smacked their helmeted heads together, so hard that the helmets crumpled into each other, killing the soldiers instantly.

I dropped the bodies, searching for the officer. I spotted him on the floor in the fetal position, emitting something that seemed like a sob. I strode over, grabbed him by the neck, and lifted him off his feet.

"Well, officer. It looks like things turned out a little bit different than you anticipated. Now, I have a proposition for you. Either you lead me out of this shit-hole Hell pit, and I entertain the thought of letting you live, or you don't show me the way out, and I kill you right here and now."

The officer's eyes darted back and forth, his breath coming in sharp, agitated gasps.I shook him, his body almost weightless in my semi-Mutie hands.

"Three seconds, fucker!" I shouted into his face. "Three seconds before I decide for you!"

His mouth gaped like a fish, his hands trying in futility to pry my fingers off his lapel.

"Three... two... one..." I counted down, grabbing his neck with one hand.

"OKAY." The Enclave officer seemed to regain his senses when my massive hand reached for his neck.

I dropped him down. He scrambled to his feet, stumbling over himself to the far wall, in which he then pressed himself against in what seemed like a very impressive effort to put as much space between he and I. I stretched myself out, then proceeded to loot the dead bodies of the recently deceased Enclave soldiers. I took ammo, fuel, and caps off all the bodies, then proceeded to sling an Incinerator over my shoulder.

"Lead the way, bitch." I motioned with my Incinerator to the door. The officer, still pressed tightly to the wall, looked me over.

"D-don't uh, you.. want some clothes...?"

I looked myself over for the first time since I'd arrived in the Vault. My shirt had been ripped, tattered, and torn until it was more holes than actual fabric. My pants had long since disintegrated, my undershorts and boxers the only thing keeping my lower body hidden.

"Good idea, pussy. Let me scavenge something from your dead comrades..."

I saw a flare of anger in his eyes. It quickly faded when I made a show of ripping the Enclave armor apart at the joints. The man incased inside seemed to be in his early thirties, powerfully built, with dark hair and an eternal grimace of horror plastered on his face. I felt something twinge inside of me. An awkward feeling. One I hadn't experienced since the trip I made to Paradise Falls...

"Are you going to take something, or not?"

I glared back at the officer, who looked as if he immediately regretted ever being born. I growled, and turned back around. I was snapped out of my memories. I took off the plain black shirt the soldier wore, and tried stretching it over my massive frame. It worked, but it was tighter than a Mirelurk's asshole. Next were the pants. I pulled the trousers off the corpse. They were tight. I was unsurprised. It seemed that I would just have to wait to get more comfortable clothes. Speaking of comfortable... I looked down at my feet. I had hardly noticed before, but I could definitely feel the dank coldness of the wet concrete beneath my feet. I would need new shit stompers. The shoes on the big dead soldier were no where near the size I needed, so I stripped off the heavy metal boots off the fallen soldier's feet. I added an extra layer of padding on to my feet to prevent chafing, and shook my feet. The boots were tight, like the rest of my clothing, but they would work. And provide nice protection for my lower legs.

I turned to collect my prisoner. He had not moved, the fear of a brutal death holding him in place.

"Now it's your turn, princess. Show daddy the way out."

The officer edged along the wall to the exploded door way, trying to find the exit while never taking his eyes off me. He reached it, his hand brushing the blackened, twisted metal. He stepped over and out, careful not to fall. It would be a painful mistake if he did. I followed suit, carefully picking my way through the shredded steel, watchful to avoid cuts. I had no StimPaks, and getting a cut from metal was inviting infection. I now stood behind the officer, hallways twisiting off into darkness all around us. His head swiveled in an attempt to possibly remember the way out. I nudged him in the back with the Incinerator.

"Time to go." I growled, pushing him again.

He stumbled forward, making a seething glance back as he steadied himself. He straightened up, took a deep breath, looked forward, and bolted.

"Son of a bitch!" I snarled, leaping in to the dark after him.

He may have been a pussy, but he was fast. He already had several yards on me, and showed no signs of slowing. I picked up my pace, thundering down the hall after him. It was dim, and hard to see the debris that littered the floor. With standard Enclave issued HUD contacts, the officer could see in the murk fine enough. But my eyes were no matched for that kind of tech, even with my biological enhancements. But if I wanted out of this Hellish labrynth, I had to keep up.

The chase went on for miles, for all I could tell. One moment he would almost be within reach; the next, he would take a sharp turn around an invisible corner and be off, starting the cycle all over again.

I was growing tired. My legs burnt from the sprinting, my calves ached from the short jumps over crumbling wreckage I had made a million times. How the officer had managed to keep this up was beyond me, but all I knew was that I wouldn't be trapped down here. I would not die, not like this. And so I kept running. As I did, I began to notice a shifting, gradual change. The air. It was… different. Hope inflated in my chest. The outside! The officer had led me to it! I regained strength and charged after the officer, his weariness becoming a major detriment to his escape. I closed in, using the last of my fortitude to close the gap. I dove, snagging his pant leg with my hand. I pulled violently, almost ripping the officer's leg off with my ferocity. He sprawled, landing hard on the cold ground. I scrambled to my feet, dragging the officer off the ground as I rose.

"Listen up fuckface!" I roared into his face, my breath coming in heaving gasps. "You're so damn lucky I don't skin your shit, right here and right now. TAKE ME TO THE FUCKING EXIT!"

I threw him to the ground. A snap sounded through the air. Bone protruded through his left arm, the fracture piercing his skin. He yelled in pain before I once again lifted him off the ground and shoving him into a wall.

"Get fucking walking." I said.

He shot me a look of pure hatred before slowly limping off before me. I kept my wits about me this time, and my body poised to tackle him again if he tried to escape. He limped on, the darkness surrounding us slowly dissolving into a murky gray. We walked on, fresh air now plenty evident to my nose. Light broke up ahead, a hole letting it in from the outside. The sight alone excited me beyond belief. I grabbed the officer and tossed him over my shoulder, my strength having returned enough to make a final sprint for the exit. The light proceeded, my footsteps swiftly carrying the officer and I through the hole and out into the open Wasteland. I shrugged off his body, sinking to my knees, inhaling deeply.

"Sweet baby Jesus…" I sighed.

I honestly never thought I was going to make it out of that Vault. Through all the treatments and abuse I had suffered at the hands of Bitch and his Mutants, I had lost hope that I would ever return to my Wastes as a man, not a monster. But I did it.

Hell yes.

A scratching sound hit my ears. I turned, my eyes meeting the sight of the officer trying to make his way to his feet. I rose from my knees and strode over, lifting him off the ground once more. I looked him right in the face, noticing for the first time what he actually looked like. Blondish hair marked a bookish face, and he had more the look of a nerd than a soldier. I dropped him to his feet.

"In return for showing me the way out, I won't kill you." I spoke, his eyes flashing through shock, disbelief, and suspicion before I raised my hands in assurance.

"I'm not going to kill you," I said. I took a step forward. He didn't back down.

I walked up to him, put my hand on his shoulder, and then kicked his knee in so that it broke backwards. He screamed in agony, falling to the dirt.

"But I'm sure as Hell not letting you live." I spat in his face.

I turned away, his cries for mercy falling upon deaf ears. I walked, making my way to the top of a nearby hill. I surveyed the land, noticing that I was in the middle of straight nowhere. Checking my PipBoy was useless, as its solar powered battery was no doubt drained from the time I had spent underground. It would take time to charge. And in that time, I would simply wander. It was what I was best at, after all.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The Prodigal Returneth

I holstered my 9. The crumpled remains of Raiders lay around me, their bodies desecrated by my bullets. They had tried to stop me, after all, from getting my gun back. And that just doesn't fly with me. I stepped over the one in front of me. The body contained nothing. Maybe a couple caps or bullets, but that didn't interest me at the moment. Caps and bullets would come in due time. I did stop to take a fine grenade belt off a Mohawked babe, though. Hey, grenades are expensive. I stopped to look at the Raider's face as I unbuckled the belt. She was young. As in no more than twenty young. She was attractive, with a garish atomic-green and yellow Mohawk being the only detriment to her appearance. I began to feel sorry for brutally beating her to death, then stopped.

That's the Wastes, man. I thought to myself.

I finished unbuckling the belt, buckled it back on to me, and strode into a corrugated tin shack. The inside was dim, the only light permeating the building coming from a small, cut out window to my left. Mats littered the floor for sleeping, a dirty bucket of water in one corner.

"What a shithole." I said to myself, looking at my surroundings.

I could not wait to get back to Tenpenny Tower. The plushness, the luxury of it all…

"Even though it's not really Tenpenny's anymore…" I chortled to myself.

See, Megaton was a thriving community. My rationale was, "Why blow up a major trading hub that I could make cash on just for a room?". It's just good business. And when Tenpenny got all whiny that I killed Mr. Burke and didn't even blow up Megaton in the process, I just stabbed his head off and offered all the guards a new job under me. Most saw the remains of Mr. Tenpenny and quickly signed on. The residents were no problem. They didn't care, so long as they had a sliver of the Old World to be posh in.

And that's why I was eager to finish my job here. After I had escaped the Vault (whose number I still don't know) and left Officer Dickhead to his fate, I had wandered for days, simply waiting for my PipBoy to regain enough power to work properly. A normal person would have then headed straight home, but I'm no bitch. I wanted my gun back. My Ole Faithful Smith and Wesson .500 that I had to kill legions for. I wanted it back. And thanks to some Old World transmission tech that I installed with the help of the Brotherhood, I knew just where it was at all times. The only slightly difficult part was tracking it down. The dot signaling its location moved, which was a real pain in the ass. I would start off in one direction, only to have it change course in some other way, and I would be off again. Felt like I was chasing my own damn tail. After I finally found the dumbass Raiders that had taken it from some merchant that found it with all my stuff in the downtown D.C. ruins where all this fun began, I proceed to shoot and break them to death.

And that lead me to here. To this shit shack. I glanced at my Pip. The dot showed itself in the west corner. Looking up, one lone locker stood where my gun was supposed to be. I trudged over, careful to avoid the dirty, grime smeared mats and whatever the Hell else those fucks may have left lying around. I reached the locker, ripping off the door. I let it clank to the ground. It was empty… except for one single hook that held her.

"Come to daddy, sugar." I sang to her, carefully taking my gun off the hook and cradling it.

I needed to inspect it. The dim light in the shack wasn't exactly ideal for scrutiny. I held my gun carefully, making my way outside. It was getting towards night, but the rays of the setting sun were enough for my eyes. The gun was clean, save for a few new blood stains. Bastards must have tried using my gun. The barrel was straight, the chamber clear of all externalities, and the grip still firm.

"It's a good day…" I sighed, weary. I kicked a corpse. "Hey, you should be excited. I got my gun back."

The body lay still.

"Douche…"

I looked up at the horizon. In only an hour or so, it would be total darkness, and I was nowhere near any reputable haven. The shack would have to do for the night, but no way was I inviting the flesh eating Ghoul fucks in by having bodies just sitting around. I picked one up, starting a pile that I added the other bodies to. Bear hugging the bundle of corpses, I picked them up. I walked for about ten minutes, giving the shack and plenty of space. Having a Ghoul gnaw my face off in my sleep was night my idea of a good night. Lyon, though, maybe.

I smirked. I hadn't seen that blonde headed prissy captain of Lyon's Pride since months before I got taken. Maybe I would pay her a visit soon and work some of my magic. But before I could do that, I needed to survive the night. I dumped the bodies, making my way back to the shack. The air grew cold, and I suppressed a case of the shivers. Once inside the shack, I gathered up the dirty old mats, ripped them up, and started a pile of dry tinder. I managed to light a fire by very vigorously striking stone and metal. Once the fire started, I was good for the night.

I lay down, staring up at the tin ceiling. The wind whistled against the open door… shit. I forgot about the door. Leaving it wide open would be foolish. I rose from the ground, picking up the locker that once held my pistol and jammed it diagonal into the doorframe. The sharp screech of metal on metal made my skin crawl and set my teeth on edge. But my makeshift blockade would work well enough until morning time. I turned to lie down once more.

Tssssss…

I stopped, cocking my ears. That was no wind on dirt. That was an organic sound. I quickly stomped out the fire, the dark engulfing the shack. I listened once again. Nothing. Still, I didn't have the ammo to take chances. It would be a cold night once more.

XXXXX

The sunlight creeping in through the window woke me. Standing, all I could feel was the soreness of my neck and back from the cold sleep on the hard ground. I tried to stretch, my muscles grinding in resistance. Making sure I had all my stuff, I kicked the locker out of the door, sending it flying through the air. It landed with an empty boom, resting several yards away from the shack.

I stepped outside into the morning air, taking a deep breath.

"Fuck. I'm tired of walking." I said aloud, my words disappearing into the blue sky.

At least the sky looked clear. It probably wouldn't rain today, which would really chap my ass. But it was no use hanging around this place anymore. I just wanted to get back to my room at Tenpenny's. I checked myself over. I had all my supplies, my new belt securely fastened around myself. My pistol lay snug in my old 9mm holster. And by snug, I mean that I had to shove that bastard in there to get it to fit. It definitely wouldn't fall out, though.

With everything intact, I started walking. I got just beyond the perimeter when I smelled a noxious cloud of pure shit. I gagged, covering my nose with my sleeve. Looking around, I couldn't see anything that would smell that bad… and then I remembered. The bodies. I walked over to them, a gruesome sight meeting my eyes.

The bodies had been maimed. Well, maimed more than before. Huge chunks of flesh had been torn out of their stomachs and limbs, entrails spilling out onto the dirt. The smell grew unbearable. I mean, I'm no pussy, and I had certainly smelled death before, but this was worse. It wasn't just the natural order of decay. It was more...

And there it was. The shimmer around the wounds. Ghoul juice. It was a kind of digestive juice that Ghouls used to consume their prey. Gross shit, let me tell you. It breaks down flesh like it's going out of style. I would know, I saw Ghoul juice once dissolve the face of a BoS grunt. Not a fun time for him. Mostly because he died a horrifically painful death.

But anyway, I wasn't sticking around to be ambushed by a horde of Ghouls. They always seem to be in packs, and I didn't have the ammo to defend myself. And I wasn't really interested in getting within arms reach of something that could dissolve me. Last time I checked, even Muties can melt.

I turned away from the bodies, making my way over a nearby ridge. Checking my PipBoy, I oriented myself towards Tenpenny's.

"Home, here comes Daddy."


End file.
